


Dream On

by Star_Prince



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Cancer, Dreaming, Family Feels, Gen, Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentions of Cancer, alternate universe - dream, fading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Prince/pseuds/Star_Prince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, people's dreams are better than the reality they face. The fact is though, you always wake up at the end of a dream, so it's important to take away things the land of the sleeping, to learn from your resting mind so you can be sure to grab hold of that hand before it's too late. This was a lesson a boy with cancer had to learn all on his own before time slipped away from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream On

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am so sorry for this, the idea's been rattling around in my brain for a while now and it just took form today. It's all I've been thinking about and it's something I just needed to get out before I really broke down and started sobbing. This IS a sad little story so if you don't want to deal with that please don't read it. I'll be sure to go back to writing not so morbidly bittersweet and depressing things soon. Thanks to all you readers out there though, I appreciate you all!

Looking around to the rest of the team, Quill could only beam broadly and nod to each of the newly ordained Guardians. It was the first time in a long time that he had felt like he was part of something more, like part of a family, and the thought made the corners of the Terran’s mouth lift up in a self-amused smirk.

“Well then,” Peter started as he gave a curt nod, “a bit of both!”

 

* * *

 

Returning to the waking world was always the hardest part for Peter. The hospital was too bleary, the flickering fluorescent lights too bright, and the pain…well, the pain was something that no child should have to deal with. The disease itself wasn’t the problem in this case, it was the cure that left the eight-year-old’s nerves burning and body aching. Poison was pumping through his veins, all in an attempt to kill off a mass of cells that were pushing against the back portion of his brain.

It an odd twist of fate, that thing that was killing him was why he had fantastic dreams like that heroic adventure that had jut ended; out of all the possible places to have a tumor, Peter Jason Quill’s decided to push up against that still-misunderstood portion of the brain that caused humans to dream, and that added pressure against the dream-center of the brain was definitely showing its effects.

His dreams were vivid, beautiful really. Bright and shiny and exciting, as if some comic book writer had took his pens and went to work in the young boy’s brain, drawing up these exciting adventures for him while casting Peter as the main character. The misadventures of Star-Lord, all grown up and dressed in a cool outfit with cool powers and this awesome hair.

A hand slowly slid up along his head, digits futilely slipping along the smooth surface of his skull before the effort became too much and Peter was forced to lay his hands at his side once more. He was growing weaker by the moment, his breathing becoming haggard as he tried to shift himself under his covers. The movement, however faint, did draw the attention of the other people in the room.

Immediately, two pairs of hands were traveling over the boy, petting and passing over him as the owner’s voices cooed down to Peter, questioning him in that mix of love and concern that only parents could manage.

“Peter? You’re up? You were out for so long, I was afraid you weren’t gonna…gonna-“ the mother cut herself off at that point, obviously choking back a sob so she could just attempt to smile and look down at her withering child.

“Now Meredith, I told you we had nothin’ to worry about. Pete’s a strong boy just like his pop, isn’t that right Petey?” Jason probed quietly, eyebrows raised up as he looked from his son to his ex-wife.

Peter Quill looked from his mother then to his father and just smiled weakly; it was all he could do at first, the words he wanted to gush out stuck in his all-too-dry throat and jumbled up in his head. After a feeble motion towards a glass of water and a half-hearted attempt to suck a few sips of the fluid down when his mother offered it to him, Peter sighed out lazily and leaned back, mumbling softly “I went on an adventure again…I was Star-Lord.”

The boy’s parents gave knowing glances to each other and forced themselves to crack a grin. Star-Lord, Meredith’s little nickname because of Peter’s shocking blond hair that shone as bright as the sun, had become a bitter reminder of just how sick their boy was. Not only had he lost those golden locks but ever since the tumor in his brain metastasized, the boy kept dreaming of his older-self as some sort of super-hero.

“Huh that so bud? Well, what did you do this time?” his father asked with a bittersweet smile.

A few more pants was all he could give at first, the boy letting out a weak cough before he smiled brightly from one parent to the other. “A team…we saved the Galaxy, and all to your music Mom. It was amazin’, and we were heroes! Me, and the green lady, and the tattooed guy, and the tree and…and Rocket!”

The little burst of excitement at the end was punctuated with the boy actually lifting something up from beneath the covers: a stuffed raccoon dressed in a blue and red uniform, an annoyed expression plastered over its muzzle as if merely existing was enough to warrant being pissed off at the world. It looked old and well-used, obviously a favorite toy of Peter’s from years back.

Tugging the stuffed animal closer to himself, Peter’s eyes began to flutter shut once again, the heavy lids drooping down some as he stared in front of him. Reality was quickly beginning to fade and the normal objects that surrounded him in his room were pulsing and swirling, the normal **people** were taking on new characteristics.

His mother, the strongest woman he knew and the deadliest when it came to protecting her family, was shifting hues, her tanned skin and golden hair darkening, shifting to a bright green before his very eyes. And then there was his father, growing bulkier by the second while crimson markings flared up around his arms and chest; just like that man Drax in his dreams, his father had already lost his wife and was now about to lose his child. The last two members of his dream team, Rocket Raccoon and Groot, seemed to be his only friends in the dreary hospital: a stuffed animal and a plant with a single flower, the branch stretching out towards Peter as if it were offering the only bit of life there was in the hospital to the young boy.

Offering its life to Peter, just as Groot had done in the dream.

Peter smiled wearily and looked over towards his shifting father and ever-changing mother before slowly raising a hand, his fingers hanging pathetically in the air as he mumbled out quietly, “Ma? Take my hand? I’m kinda tired again…”

Tired, Peter seemed to be eternally tired lately, even the simplest actions like _staying awake_ had become a burden to his weakened body. He wanted out of this bed, this hospital, this life! He didn’t want to be the bald chemo-kid stuck inside, too sick to go catch bullfrogs in the pond. He didn’t want to play spaceman with Rocket in the hospital corridors, much less his bed…he needed out. He needed freedom.

Meredith nodded slowly, fingers quickly moving to rub at the dampness in her eye before she sniffed in sharply. It was obvious she was trying to keep her emotions under control and, no surprise to Peter, the strongest woman he knew pulled it off admirably. Hastily, her hand shot out to grab her son’s, fingers lacing around his smaller digits as she smiled down to her sickly child. “Yes, of course…anything for you my little Star-Lord.”

Turning to Jason now, Peter sighed out and looked up desperately to his father. “Y-you too? And the plant…I want the flower nearby. Groot brings good dreams.”

Peter’s father didn’t say a word, not even questioning the name he gave the plant, before he bleakly nodded and moved to the bedside table to grab the potted branch with that single flower. Jason tucked the pot under his son’s right arm and hesitantly moved to grab ahold of the boy’s shoulder, the firm hand trembling as it squeezed at his son.

Peter’s eyes lidded completely now as he leaned back, his arm looping around that stuffed raccoon as he settled in for another bout of sleep. He was ready now. His team was around him, waiting for his word on what to do. A flitting giggle left his lips as his breath grew slower, sleep quickly overtaking him after he mumbled “Yeah, I’m ready for our next adventure…a bit of both.”

The room was silent after that, save for the occasional deep sniff and the slow, steady beat of a heart monitor. And even that faded out to a constant dull hum as the next adventure began.


End file.
